Something Just Like This
by the vortex of meow
Summary: That's right. He was married now. Against his parent's wishes and living with a red-haired Weasley who had more temper than he had money. /Draco/Ginny


**Written for The Quidditch League Competition.**

 **Round 12 - Pair Them Up!**

 **Team: Kenmare Kestrels**

 **Position: Captain - Write about two characters in a romantic relationship**

 **I chose Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy. This is AU with Ginny being Draco's support after the war and leading to them eventually getting married. Making Ginny an outcast from her family and Draco was still a Death Eater as per canon.**

 **PS: I feel like cheated on my OTP (Draco/Astoria) *shakes fist***

 **Beta'd: Dessie (desertredwolf) and Zivvy (Zivandre)  
**

* * *

 _"Keep... telling..."_

There was a sound.

Sharp, blunt, and extremely annoying right next to his ear.

He was having trouble breathing with it there. It was like walls were closing in around him, blocking his escape route, blocking his future. Spindly hands were patting his head, praising his efforts like some small child getting a good grade on an essay. But he still couldn't see anything.

There was a woman. Saying his name, crying his name desperately. _Mother?_

The sounds were just increasing — getting louder and louder _and louder and louder_ —

 _"...yourself... that."_

* * *

Then he woke up.

Draco Malfoy bolted straight up out of bed. His right arm swiped across the dresser and smacked the cheerfully singing magical mirror — which yelped and scattered off — and his left arm grasped desperately at the empty space next to him.

He stared blankly at crumpled bed sheets.

Without warning, there was a sudden explosion of falling pots and pans from the downstairs kitchen followed by rapid cursing.

Draco turned his gaze to the door.

 _That's right._

He was married now. Against the wishes of his parents and living with a red-haired Weasley girl, who had more temper than he had money.

Draco let himself fall back on the bed with a small groan.

This was going take some time to get used to.

...

At first sight, Draco was taken aback.

They hadn't moved into a _large_ apartment per se. It was certainly smaller than he was used to after living in his family's mansion for most of his life, but the spark that entered Ginevra's eyes after seeing it was enough to say _yes_ to anything she wanted. She called it perfect. He called it good-enough.

It was a mess.

He didn't know what she had been trying to make, but it involved batter and eggs. Draco peered at a splotch of powder on her apron. _Probably flour too..._

It hadn't been a complete failure, no. Two places on the table had been set up with fresh food on the plates. It looked like pancakes. He hadn't had pancakes since Hogwarts. Only a few years, yet it felt like decades since that time.

Draco wondered how long she had been up before him. It was enough time to create this mess and dig out the dishware from the moving boxes.

He stood near the doorway to watch.

Ginevra still hadn't noticed him. The un-observant Gryffindor she was. She was brushing off one of the cupboards with a dishrag. How _adult_ she looked at that moment. Like she was at home. His mother had never looked like that in the kitchen. Amongst all of his memories, he couldn't remember his mother even working in the kitchen. But there had been moments, when he was young and scared of the dark, where she would take him down late at night and they would drink hot chocolate.

It had been a little secret between them while his father slept upstairs.

 _Why,_ she would whisper to him, _what kind of mother would I be if I couldn't make something to cheer up my own child?_

Strange. It had been a good memory to look back on when he was in his teens. But now — it just pained him to remember.

Being so young, all he had thought of was how young and elegant his mother had looked making their drinks. Her blonde hair had been down over her shoulders, making her less like a Malfoy and more like a mother.

It was different with Ginevra.

With her hair falling down from a messy-bun, bustling around the kitchen … and if he listened closely, he could hear her singing softly. She was less like a mess and more like his wife.

* * *

 _Dreamy light eyes blinked at him and he took a wary step back. What did one of Ginevra's bridesmaids want with him?_

 _"You aren't good enough for her, you know," Luna informed him, calmly._

 _Was that it?_

 _Draco took a deep breath. He knew that, would they just shut up-_

 _His unkind thoughts staggered to a halt as she placed a hand on his cheek and patted it. "But I think you could be."_

 _What?_

 _He stared at her._

 _"She loves you."_

 _"I know that." He replied with gritted teeth._

 _"You don't believe it," Luna countered. Her blue eyes searched his darker grey ones. "Maybe you could before... but not right now._

 _He didn't need to be pyscho-analyzed by Loony Lovegood of all people. Irritated, he brushed away her hand. But once again, her next words made him pause._

 _"She loves you. Just keep telling yourself that," she advised, turning away to join the rest of the party. "And maybe one day you'll believe it."_

* * *

"Draco!"

Ginevra had turned around and was staring at him. Her hands placed on her hips with an exasperated look.

Draco found himself muttering a quick apology ( _"Sorry, Ginevra."_ ) even though he wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for. Once again, it was hard to deny her with that spark in her eyes.

"Were you going to scare me?"

His lips twitched. An amusing idea. "Maybe."

She huffed and waved the dishrag at him. "You will be doing work too, you know. There is no way I'm unpacking all of this stuff by myself."

 _If you hadn't married me, then maybe your family would help you._

Draco didn't voice this depressing thought, of course. Now wasn't the time to think of what they didn't have. As a Malfoy, he had spent all of his life doing that.

Then he remembered late nights, an elegant mother and hot chocolate.

It was time to focus on what he did have.

"Do you like hot chocolate?" Draco blurted out. It had just occurred to him that he didn't know.

Ginevra stared at him skeptically. "I love it." She moved closer to him. "But we don't have any. Why?"

"No reason." Draco frowned and nodded to the mess on the counter. "Having a bit of trouble?"

She waved a careless hand at food on the table. "Yeah, but I figured it out." Her face paled. "Wait. You do like pancakes, right? I should've checked that." She let out a sigh while patting down her frazzled hair.

Draco gave a small smile. "Pancakes are fine." He reached out to grasp his wife's wrist and tugged her forward. "You've already unpacked the boxes?"

"Started to, slowly," she replied. Her gaze momentarily flickered toward the boxes; he followed their path. There was an opened box-cutter on the table, he noted.

"Without magic?"

"Well - " Ginevra's hand found his and interlocked their fingers. "Since you're still..." she faltered slightly before continuing, "... on the magical ban from the Ministry."

 _Oh..._

She was still talking. "With us being married, I checked and I'm included in the ban. Being a Malfoy and all now."

Draco wasn't surprised anymore.

Ginevra carried on, firmly. "It'll be fine though." She wrapped a hand around his neck to pull him closer. "It'll be fun. We'll just keep going at it, yeah?"

There was that spark in her eyes again and something deeper that made Draco's heart tighten with warmth and regret. Silently, he pushed back some stray red hair from her face.

 _She loves me._

He thought to himself while leaning down to kiss her.

 _Maybe one day I will believe it._

Draco tightened his grip on her.

 _Or maybe I already do._

...

 _What kind of husband would I be if I didn't?_


End file.
